


Casting Couch

by boonies



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki, JYJ - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boonies/pseuds/boonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Yoochun and Jaejoong are cast in the same drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casting Couch

*

 

"I'm always playing the same guy," Yoochun says.

 

Junsu bundles up, glancing out of the frosted window. "I'm gonna need four more sweaters."

 

Yoochun frowns at his new script. "Unapproachable rich douchebag who magically learns to love."

 

"Socks?" Junsu mutters under his breath, checking under the couch. He pulls on two pairs, pasting himself against the window again. "Maybe one more jacket to be safe."

 

"I'm just saying it'd be nice to not be typecast," Yoochun says, thwacking the script against a couch cushion. "Just once."

 

"Jaejoongie," Junsu says desperately, shaking him awake, "where's your thermal underwear?"

 

Jaejoong rubs at his eyes and sits up, unsure why his beautiful white couch is covered in ugly ink stains.

 

He dozed off for, like, what, seven minutes?

 

Why is his apartment suddenly an apocalyptic wasteland.

 

"What did you do," he growls at Yoochun.

 

Yoochun's staring off into distance, being very melodramatic. "The ink quality is as shitty as the script."

 

Jaejoong sighs, licking a finger and rubbing at a smudge.

 

It only makes it worse.

 

His eyes narrow dangerously.

 

"I'll clean it later," Yoochun promises.

 

" _Thermal underwear_ ," Junsu whines, dancing an impatient little jig.

 

Jaejoong almost chucks them both out of the window.

 

*

 

They're mostly done packing Junsu up when Yoochun drapes himself over a suitcase.

 

"I want a good role. Something challenging."

 

Jaejoong kicks him off, zipping the suitcase up. "Did you rob a store? Why are there seventy scarves here?"

 

Junsu sniffles. "My nose—"

 

"I want something... meaty," Yoochun soliloquizes, then slaps a hand over Junsu's mouth. "Shut up."

 

Junsu grins.

 

Jaejoong's still sleepy and not entirely sure what's going on with either idiot, so he hastily packs Junsu up, gives his back a motherly pat, then ushers him toward the door, singing, "Please don't break anything, including the ski resort."

 

Then he turns to Yoochun, who's glued to the window, waving dolefully at a disappearing Junsu, and tells him, very authoritatively, "Do a cable drama."

 

Yoochun perks up.

 

Yup.

 

This is why Jaejoong is a genius.

 

*

 

 

Jaejoong's so fucking stupid he can't even.

 

"When I said cable drama," he mutters, aiming for a tactful tone and failing miserably, "I didn't mean _do_ _gay porn_."

 

Yoochun frowns from the doorway. "It's not gay porn. It's cable."

 

Jaejoong rubs the bridge of his nose.

 

A migraine is lurking behind his eyes and Yoochun's neon green scarf is not helping. "The main character is gay."

 

Yoochun trails behind him like a puppy.

 

Jiji hisses halfheartedly.

 

"He's not gay," Yoochun says, waving script pages around. "Not in the beginning, anyway." He bounces ahead of Jaejoong to thrust papers at his face, a blur of blinding colors and rosy cheeks. "It's _so_ good. Read it."

 

Jaejoong pockets it for later, annoyed.

 

*

 

"I want this role," Jaejoong says, slapping the script on Yoochun's desk with purpose.

 

Yoochun looks up apprehensively. "You can't have it. I saw it first."

 

"But it's _so_ good," Jaejoong whines. "The dialogue, the pacing, the _plot_."

 

"I know," Yoochun says, helplessly spreading his arms. " _I'm_ the one who told you about it."

 

Jaejoong sits on the desk, boring holes into Yoochun's enormous forehead. "I want it."

 

"I want it, too."

 

They stare for a moment, sizing each other up.

 

"I'm a better actor."

 

"I'm prettier."

 

Yoochun scowls.

 

Jaejoong sticks out his bottom lip.

 

"This feels like kindergarten," Yoochun says finally and because Yoochun always gives in first, he adds a nonchalant, "Go for it, hyung."

 

Jaejoong instantly feels terrible.

 

But... just... the plot is so good.

 

"No, it's fine," he tells Yoochun honestly. "You'd do a better job anyway."

 

"I don't want it now," Yoochun huffs, frustrated.

 

Jaejoong pokes his cheek once, twice. "You'll make a really good art teacher," he says enthusiastically, being totally supportive. "I'll watch every episode."

 

Yoochun blinks at him. "...I wanna play the _mobster_."

 

Jaejoong blinks back. "...I wanna play the art teacher."

 

Yoochun laughs all the way to his phone.

 

*

 

"We can schedule a table-read for Monday," the PD says, practically salivating. "No one minds if I go shoot off a memo to everyone in the business, right?"

 

"Wait, don't I need to audition—" Jaejoong calls out but the door slams shut.

 

*

 

"Let me get this straight," Junsu repeats slowly.

 

"No pun intended," Yoochun nods, cheesy grin in place.

 

"...you're playing each other's love interests?" Junsu finishes, face arranged into an incredulous expression, one arm bandaged from a bad slope bend.

 

Jaejoong nods, trying to inconspicuously slip a copy of the script into Junsu's autographed cast. "The _plot_ , Junsu-yah."

 

Junsu takes a quiet moment to stare at the first page, then slowly takes out his phone. "You guys don't care if we disband, right?"

 

Yoochun takes the phone away. "It's like when you did that musical—"

 

"That neither of you came to see..." Junsu grumbles, crossings his arms, cast getting in the way.

 

"—and you kissed some guys."

 

"One guy," Junsu corrects.

 

Jaejoong stops to think.

 

"We're gonna be making out?"

 

Yoochun waves him off, uncaring. "So you don't have to freak out, okay?"

 

Junsu makes an _I guess..._ face but Jaejoong's pretty sure there'll be some extreme praying later.

 

*

 

The PD rushes the first four scripts over.

 

"He knows there's _two_ of us, right," Yoochun squints at the single binder once the courier takes off.

 

"We can share," Jaejoong says sensibly, finding a comfortable spot on the floor to read. "Bring it here."

 

Yoochun folds himself next to Jaejoong, leaning against the back of the couch. He flips the first script open, and it's a revised version, so he produces a highlighter and goes to work.

 

"That's how you do it?" Jaejoong raises both eyebrows.

 

Yoochun glances at him. "How do _you_ do it?"

 

Jaejoong averts his gaze. "Same way. Yeah."

 

Yoochun grins, producing another colored highlighter. "You be yellow, I'll be pink."

 

*

 

"You have to think about what motivates your character," Yoochun lectures, arranged at an unnatural angle on the couch.

 

"Chemistry is more important," Jaejoong argues, face smushed into the rug.

 

"Yeah," Yoochun drawls sarcastically. "And you never have it with the right people."

 

Jaejoong takes offense to that. He definitely had... chemistry with... like. Yihan. And. Uh. Ji Sung?

 

Yoochun's at that creepy late night stage where he can read Jaejoong's mind with surprising accuracy. "You were supposed to have chemistry with Minyoung and Kang-hee."

 

"I have chemistry with you," Jaejoong mumbles into the rug. "It'll be fine."

 

Yoochun shuts up.

 

*

 

The PD wants to shoot scenes out of order.

 

"So we can advertise efficiently," he explains but Jaejoong can virtually see r-a-t-i-n-g-s spelled out on every inch of his unshaven face.

 

Which is why they film the escalator scene first.

 

As it's scripted, Yoochun's character is supposed to run into Jaejoong's, literally.

 

But neither of them are very athletic so the first take ends with mild concussions for everyone involved.

 

"More aggression," the PD instructs, hunched over in his little portable chair.

 

"What's my motivation," Jaejoong whispers as Yoochun comes to stand behind him on the inactive escalator.

 

"To paint some pretty shit and get laid," Yoochun whispers into his ear.

 

And then the cameras are rolling and Yoochun slips into character.

 

His face morphs from its troll version to a suave, confident facade.

 

Jaejoong can only gape.

 

It's so different from when they were playing married high-schoolers and rebels, respectively.

 

It's different from, really, anything safe and familiar.

 

So Jaejoong just stares.

 

The escalator comes to life with a loud whir and then Jaejoong is losing balance and tipping sideways.

 

Yoochun catches him, eyes wide. His hands slip around Jaejoong's waist and his face freezes an inch apart.

 

"Got you," Yoochun says smoothly, but not really, because it's a line, just a line, it's scripted and not real.

 

Jaejoong's sense of professionalism, or maybe self-preservation, kicks in and he delivers his line properly.

 

"Let me go."

 

*

 

 

A week into filming, Yoochun decides he wants to rehearse a scene.

 

Jaejoong's relatively cool with rehearsing, but not at fucking midnight.

 

"We have to be on set in two hours," he says as Yoochun ducks under his arm to worm his way into the apartment.

 

"That interior scene at school," Yoochun says without preamble, "I'm not sure how to... do it."

 

Jaejoong's not sure how to stay awake.

 

"The one where they paint each other?" he yawns, jaw almost unhinging.

 

Yoochun's trying to fight a contagious yawn. "The one where you paint me, yeah. ON me."

 

Jaejoong's kinda run through that scene a lot.

 

No particular reason, really.

 

"You want me to go through the lines with you?" he asks, suddenly not at all sleepy.

 

Yoochun unbuttons his shirt in response.

 

Oh.

 

Okay.

 

"Where's your script," Yoochun asks distractedly, finding a good spot in the living room.

 

"I memorized all my lines," Jaejoong replies with an excited little hop. He grabs a bakery brush from the kitchen because he's just not that great at visualizing props, then runs back to where Yoochun is standing.

 

"I don't really have a lot to do in this scene," Yoochun says, worrying his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "So you can start."

 

Immediately, Jaejoong places a warm palm across Yoochun's heart, flattening the brush between his hand and Yoochun's skin.

 

"The body is the ultimate canvas," he recites and Yoochun frowns.

 

"No. Do it sexy."

 

Jaejoong's trying but he mainly just wants to laugh.

 

"I'm poking at you with a brush I used on a chicken yesterday," he points out and Yoochun loses his composure.

 

"Don't you dare," he warns, trying not to laugh, "shit. Great. Now I won't be able to get through this tomorrow."

 

Jaejoong glances at the clock. "Today."

 

Yoochun groans. "Okay. Okay. Sometimes it helps if you switch."

 

Jaejoong missed this part during his acting lessons. "Switch roles?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Jaejoong shrugs.

 

It doesn't really matter to him. He performs best when he has the least amount of preparation. But whatever helps Yoochun. Jaejoong would do anything to help him.

 

Slowly, Yoochun closes his eyes, expression smoothing out.

 

He opens his eyes and he's not Yoochun at all.

 

Jaejoong tenses.

 

"The body," Yoochun says and roughly tugs Jaejoong's pajama collar down, "is the ultimate canvas." His fingertips ghost over Jaejoong's collarbone.

 

Jaejoong shivers.

 

"Whatever I paint on your body," Yoochun says, voice gruff, "will fade in a few hours." His fingers skim down. "All the feelings I put here," he taps against Jaejoong's heart, "are only temporary."

 

Jaejoong can't move.

 

But he's definitely not going to laugh through this scene.

 

*

 

"People keep asking me if I'm jealous."

 

Jaejoong scribbles a phallic object on Junsu's cast. "What?"

 

"Because your drama's doing so well," Junsu says, twisting his neck to see the atrocities decorating his arm. "Draw a mustache on that one."

 

Jaejoong obeys. "Why would you be jealous?"

 

Junsu scrolls through twitter with his unbroken hand. "Because the ratings are amazing and you haven't even kissed yet."

 

Jaejoong's sharpie scratches off Junsu's cast. "There's no kissing in the script."

 

Junsu blinks. "What."

 

Jaejoong shrugs.

 

Junsu's face is a picture of disbelief. "Aren't you about to film episode eight?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"EVERYONE KISSES BY EPISODE EIGHT."

 

"It's in the tenth episode," Yoochun calls out from the bathroom. "I asked."

 

"YOU ASKED WHICH EPISODE IT WAS IN," Junsu yells, "OR YOU ASKED FOR THEM TO SCRIPT ONE IN?"

 

Jaejoong's feigning indifference so hard his face is aging backwards. "You wanna practice that scene, too, Yoochunnie?"

 

There's a long moment of silence.

 

Something in the bathroom clatters to the floor.

 

"Nope," Yoochun says, poking his head out. "I wanna get that one done in one go."

 

*

 

Jaejoong sticks two fingers to his pulse point.

 

He glances at the wall clock, counting. If he's doing the math right, his pulse rate is... 234 beats per minute?

 

That's probably not right since he's not dead, so he just jumps to his feet, patting himself down.

 

He can do this.

 

He can kiss Yoochun.

 

Junsu kissed a guy and said it was soft. It's fine. It's just Yoochun.

 

Yoochun, who spent ten years teasing him, all _hey, look, a camera, let's act like we're gonna make out and then I'll just dodge at the last minute and laugh at your face_.

 

Not that Jaejoong's holding a grudge.

 

Totally non-grudgy, he follows the trail of marks on the floor to the correct set.

 

The scene's set in the mobster's house, where Jaejoong's character is ~forced to live, and the kissing happens in the bathroom, which isn't nearly as gross as it should be, considering.

 

Yoochun's already there, patiently waiting for someone to re-apply his makeup.

 

"You ready?" Jaejoong asks amicably.

 

Yoochun gives him a smug look. "I'm not the one that didn't properly get kissed in his last two... _three_ dramas."

 

Jaejoong's blood spikes.

 

With impatience, he waits for the PD to set up, ignoring Yoochun's puzzled looks.

 

He's full of avenging thoughts when "Action!" is called out, but he lets Yoochun deliver his lines.

 

"We don't lock this door," Yoochun says, fully in-character.

 

Jaejoong's character is supposed to be getting ready to jump in the shower in a strange bathroom. He's supposed to fight when Yoochun's character grabs his wrist. He's supposed to get pressed into a wall. Kissed.

 

Jaejoong breezes through most of that and when Yoochun leans in for a dry, closed-mouthed kiss, Jaejoong sighs and parts his lips, the tip of his tongue tasting Yoochun.

 

Yoochun jerks back, startled.

 

"Aw," the PD comments, very disappointed. "That's an NG."

 

They realign for a new take.

 

Yoochun seems flustered, but he manages a dark, promising, "We don't lock this door," when he presses Jaejoong into the wall.

 

He leans in again and, again, Jaejoong parts his lips around Yoochun's bottom lip, teeth lightly scraping.

 

This time, Yoochun seems a little less surprised, but he still breaks character and pushes himself away.

 

"Just keep at it until you get it right," the PD sighs into the script, checking the nearest camera. "We'll keep rolling."

 

Jaejoong should feel like he's won this round, and he's ready to just play it straight and wrap it up, but this time, Yoochun presses him into the wall with more force than necessary, claiming his mouth.

 

He angles his face and slips his tongue in and Jaejoong melts.

 

One of his arms reaches up automatically and he knocks down a makeshift shelf full of shampoos.

 

"NG."

 

Yoochun pulls away so slowly Jaejoong isn't sure he's actually gone.

 

"Still rolling," the PD says, voice the only noise on a set of absolute sudden silence.

 

Yoochun swoops in lightning-fast.

 

*

 

" _How_ many NGs?" Junsu laughs.

 

"Thirty-one," Jaejoong says, numb.

 

Junsu sticks a chopstick down his cast, making a blissful face as he scratches himself raw. "Did you break your own record?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Junsu eu kyang kyangs into oblivion.

 

*

 

"The ratings," the PD cries, hugging them both close. "The _ratings_."

 

Jaejoong and Yoochun exchange awkward glances over him, then extract themselves.

 

"Let's go film the best last episode of anything ever," the PD says, kinda deliriously.

 

Jaejoong shuffles away without a word, checking his copy of the script.

 

It's not a happy ending, which he expected. But it's a good, logical conclusion, and his character gets a strong exit and... Yoochun's not talking to him.

 

Unless they're in-character.

 

It's some kind of method-acting or something, probably, but it's also really fucking annoying.

 

Because Yoochun has no reason to be a dick.

 

The reviews are fantastic, the ratings are even better, and so why.

 

Why.

 

"Drink it," Yoochun says and almost knocks Jaejoong out with a bottle of water.

 

Jaejoong catches it awkwardly, turning around.

 

"You'll get dehydrated otherwise," Yoochun explains, running a hand through his hair, agitated. "Because of the crying."

 

Yoochun's an expert on crying so Jaejoong sips at his bottle of water, bit by bit, eyeing Yoochun suspiciously.

 

Yoochun opens his mouth, then closes it.

 

Jaejoong takes another sip.

 

Yoochun opens his mouth again.

 

"We're ready for you," the PD calls out lovingly.

 

*

 

"This is so fucking sad," Junsu says, clutching a decorative pillow.

 

The final episode is winding down and Jaejoong's pretty impressed. He's usually equal parts mortified and narcissistic when watching himself on screen, but there's definitely a subtlety about this performance that—

 

"Stop writing your own accolades," Yoochun grumbles from the other side of the couch, glaring at the TV.

 

Jaejoong tries to think less loudly.

 

"This is _so_ sad," Junsu cries again as blood splatters across the screen. "Why can't you just be happy?"

 

" _They_ ," Yoochun corrects coldly, leaning on one hand.

 

"But you were so good together," Junsu rages, scratching at a pale stretch of skin and peeling remaining pieces of plaster from his arm. "Why did you go into that warehouse, Yoochunnie, why didn't you just—"

 

Yoochun bowls him over with a cushion.

 

*

 

"I'm not gonna break anything this time," Junsu promises.

 

Jaejoong zips up his luggage, unconvinced. "...just try to not die."

 

Yoochun slaps a pair of ear muffs on Junsu's head. "You got everything?"

 

Junsu pats himself down awkwardly, numerous coats getting in the way. "Money."

 

"Nice try," Jaejoong says and boots him out of his apartment.

 

Yoochun goes to squish himself against the window, watching Junsu's progress outside.

 

Jaejoong joins him, pressing his nose to the glass.

 

"So," Yoochun says calmly, "are you in love with my character or me?"

 

Jaejoong chokes.

 

"Me or him?" Yoochun asks, looking straight ahead, breath misting up the window.

 

Jaejoong tries to not think too loudly because Yoochun doesn't need to know Jaejoong's been half in love with him forever.

 

"...probably you?" he says.

 

"Probably?" Yoochun asks.

 

He considers for a moment, as though he's straining his ears to hear something.

 

Jaejoong panics. "And you?"

 

Yoochun presses his forehead to the window, turning his head to stare at Jaejoong.

 

Jaejoong scans his expression.

 

Then grins.

 

"It'll be a different role than you're used to playing," he warns.

 

Yoochun accepts the challenge.


End file.
